


Seas Less Traveled

by daesgatling, ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 10:15:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daesgatling/pseuds/daesgatling, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers/pseuds/ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cowritten with the lovely daesgatling. What happens if it was Killian that died and Milah became Captain Hook? And she was on a quest with Cora to get her revenge? Pairing: Captain Swan (If that still counts as Captain Swan) later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

           Milah had not wanted to be married to Rumplestiltskin...not really. When she was a girl, she had dreamed of courting, of knights and princes, like most girls did. She dreamed of a rich man that would take her away from her village. She was destined for greater things; she just lacked the status or funds to be so.

 

She wasn’t the one who had set up her marriage. His foster mothers had gone to her parents to suggest it. It was an audacious thing, marrying the orphaned son of a coward who made his living doing work suited for women. But the other men were too old, too young, or too stupid.  None of them were rich or destined for great things.

 

So she took the spinner, and he was kind enough, if a little shy. He at least never tried to force his husbandly duties on her and he was patient too, which was a plus. Milah had had no siblings and her father wanted a boy. She’d been used for men’s work more than women’s, so she didn’t know much about stitches or clothes. Her mother had taken care of all that and just assumed that Milah had picked up on it as well.

 

But Milah didn’t, so it was up to her husband to teach her. He had to be patient for her to understand. She’d be used to plows and axes, not needles and string. It was something that she continued to learn as they grew older. 

 

She didn’t have children to fuss after. They never had the means to afford another mouth to feed. She brought in money the way she did, and he brought in money the way he did and slowly, slowly they made ends meet for themselves. It was hard; they said he had cowards blood and that ran deep. Some wouldn’t use his services. Some mocked that she helped with physical labor. Milah ignored it. Her not staying inside chasing after children was something that never bothered her. Not truly.

 

Then the war came, and things were harder. Refugees and deserters moved through the villages; bartering, begging, and outright robbing in some instances. They saw their fair share of those that came through. The elders advised them to open their homes. Milah and Rumplestiltskin didn’t. Her reasoning was that they couldn’t afford to take someone in; Rumplestiltskin’s was that he feared the soldiers wouldn’t behave themselves with her. Milah never expected them to have to worry much. The war couldn’t possibly reach them. Not in the distance.

 

But it did. And her husband was drafted. Milah had worried. She was…fond of him. She thought she loved him in her own little way in the years they’d been married. She didn’t want to lose him.

 

They’d spent one last night together before he left. But something had gone wrong. Perhaps the herbs hadn’t been mixed right because Milah found herself carrying his child, a child that drained her and a double workload to worry about. Refugees flooded in; she even got robbed once when she was helping out in the fields.

 

As she grew more heavily pregnant, she kept to the house. She took up more of her husband’s work to make ends meet. She thought people were whispering behind her back, but she ignored it like she always did. That was…until the whispers reached her ears. Her husband injured himself to get out of battle they said. He was a coward they said. His child would be one too.

 

She didn’t let it bother her. She had other things to worry about.

 

Her son was born; she named him Baelfire, after her grandfather. He had been a mighty warrior but Milah didn’t know if those stories were true or exaggerated. He died before she met him.

 

She didn’t name him after his father. If everyone judged him a coward then they would judge her son as a coward as well for carrying his name. She didn’t want that for him. 

 

Besides, the war was a slaughter. Milah knew that he had little chance of coming back.

 

But he did. And the tales that she heard, that she and her child were judged for, were true. He had injured himself to avoid his duty. 

 

That night he returned, she said things that she shouldn’t have. And that night she regretted them. But the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, and she suffered. Not only was her husband a coward, but he was a coward that came home when so many didn’t. And he was a cripple; he couldn’t defend against the trouble that came with war.

 

So she was put through the abuse. There were those that hated her family, but they couldn’t deal with the guilt of tearing down a cripple, so they tore her down. Business dried up, people mocked her and spit at her on the streets. Baelfire was the only reason they weren’t completely starving. No one wanted to make a child go hungry so they were given the barest jobs.

 

Word of his cowardice spread; it was harder to sell in bigger towns and they came home from journeys with the money already spent. She wanted to leave the village; this was fate, this was time. They could be travelers and see the world like she’d always wanted to do. But Rumple refused. Her practical husband reminded her that moving was next to impossible with a crippled husband and a child. They’d have to abandon their livelihood in a war torn landscape. They would definitely starve out there or worse. Highwaymen were rampant; it was hard to just leave the village for a walk.

 

It wasn’t practical to stay here either, but the conundrum was always the same. What choice did they have? It was the same problem it always was. She wanted to leave, but they had neither the means nor the status to do so.

 

And as the taunts grew, the whispers continued, the wish to leave crept up on her like a sickness. And she started drinking to get rid of the depression. She got mean when she got drunk, but it was the only thing that alleviated the feeling of helplessness. She couldn’t focus on her starving lonely son. She couldn’t focus on her cowardly crippled husband. It was all reminders.

 

And then Killian came. He was young, handsome and charming. He paid attention to her and made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He didn’t see the wife of a coward, or the mother of a future coward. He told her stories and more importantly, he gave her a way out. A way that didn’t need status or riches. It was wrong, and she knew it when she made the decision. Her husband asked her to try, and she  had tried. But there was no leaving the town in a way that would guarantee them a life. And she couldn’t do it anymore, she just couldn’t.

 

He was supposed to be a means of escape, and maybe he thought of her as a fling at the time they’d meet. And Milah was alright with that, as long as she got out. She had no idea what Killian told her husband when…. if ….he knew what she did.

 

Maybe Milah should’ve said goodbye. But she couldn’t face them. She would stay if she did. In some ways, she was a coward as well. 

 

But she couldn’t be a wife and mother. Not in that environment. She’d tried and they were all miserable.

 

So she got her life of freedom. She and Killian fell in love. They had their adventures while sticking it to the society that rejected them. But she always quietly regretted what she’d done and how she’d done it. She suggested to Killian that maybe they could go back for Baelfire when he was old enough, but she never really believed it. Not even she was stupid enough to believe she could face up to him and what she did after all those years.

 

Years later new rumors reached her ear about her husband. They said that the recruiters came for Bae; the war still went on in that part of the world. They said he killed the Dark One to take his power and he was as bad as the being before him if not worse.

 

They said he killed Bae. One day he was there and the next, he wasn’t. Anyone that asked wasn’t seen again.

 

Milah hoped the rumors weren’t true. The war was ended by Rumple, why would he kill their son if he saved everyone? She refused to believe them, and she continued working. Then one day, near the borders, they accidentally crossed him. They hadn’t meant to; they’d made sure to try and stay out of his way. But a little collector had a big mouth and had yammered about a bean that he could sell and how he had a very rich client lined up. So they stole him first; they took the bean. They intended to make the profit.

 

But the client was her husband. And he was after Killian for something Killian said years ago that she didn’t even know about. He told her to stay away. He’d face his punishment but he couldn’t let the Dark One see her. If he did, whatever Killian had told him would come crashing down and endanger her too.

 

But since when had she ever listened? She went to confront Rumple, and seeing him again….changed as he was, she couldn’t believe it. Had he destroyed himself to stop the war? Was this his punishment for whatever he’d done? Was he truly cursed?

 

The plan was ruined, but she was glad she went; it saved Killian. For a time at least.

 

They bargained for their lives. The bean in exchange for their survival. What he wanted the bean for, Milah didn’t know; she was more concerned about her husband’s hand being buried in her lover’s chest. She didn’t ask about Baelfire; she didn’t want the rumors to be proven true again. He didn’t even bring him up. 

 

It was supposed to be a simple exchange, but things soured quickly. He finally asked something about their son; he grew angry. She grew angry as well. She didn’t remember what she said…and everything that followed the exchange was a blur. She knew that she had shown him the bean in her hand and kept it clenched into a fist afterwards. She knew that whatever she said had infuriated him. There was a flash of movement and then pain.

 

Seconds later her hand was on the ground. She was still in shock as he bent down to pick it up, tuck it away as though it were just the bean itself.

 

There’d be nothing in the palm if that was his intent. She’d slipped the bean in her pocket earlier when he’d been distracted. That hardly mattered at the moment though. She was on the deck holding her bleeding stump.

 

She lost her hand.  She lost her hand. She. Lost. Her. Hand. 

 

Killian rushed forward to protect her.  It was his last mistake. She didn’t see the actual act but she looked up and Killian’s heart was in Rumplestiltskin’s hand. She didn’t make the connection at first until he squeezed, reducing the heart to ash.

 

Killian fell, and the life she had coveted for so long was ruined.

 

Her husband wasn’t the only one crippled now.

 

“I’ll kill you,” she hissed, fumbling behind her for the nearest weapon. The first thing she felt was a spare hook for the rigging. 

 

“You can’t. Not now, not ever,” he mocked her.

 

“I’ve killed things a lot older than you,” she snarled, trying to get to her feet. She wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or the lack of a hand that made her unsteady, “I will find a way.”

 

“Well good luck living long enough,” he said before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke before she could even attack.

 

She would though. She’d survive by sheer will. She’d hurt people to get to where she needed to go, but that was alright. Milah made peace with the fact that she was not a good person a long time ago.

 

She had a bean and a destination, one that Killian had told her about as they had looked up at the stars, snug between the railing and her true love. They went there after they buried him at sea, while Milah fashioned an appendage out of the spare hook to replace her lost hand.

 

A place called Neverland. 


	2. Chapter 2

    Neverland wasn’t what she wanted it nor expected it to be. She had imagined that it was a paradise from the way Killian had described it, though he used less than wonderful terms for it. She could understand that; it was where Liam died. The brother that had turned him to a life of piracy.

    Neverland consisted of very few islands, most of which were unlivable, and miles and miles of ocean. That was great if they were sailors or fishermen, but they weren’t. They were pirates and for them it was a hell they could not escape from. With nothing to rob or pillage, they sailed aimlessly around for days. She gave the orders, she kept the ship running, but there was something hollow now that the captain was gone. Some of these men had known Killian since he started out pirating. They’d known him when he was a soldier. An honorable lieutenant as he told her once. It was hard for them to deal with his loss.

    It was even harder for her. Especially at night when she went to bed, the one that they had shared. She still reached for his side only to find it empty. After that she’d cry herself to a miserable, nightmare-fueled sleep.  

    She was going to kill him. She didn’t care how, but she was going to find a way to kill Rumplestiltskin.

    Then they found the island Killian told her he lost his brother at. They arrived just as it was becoming night; Milah gave the order to anchor so she could go and look so forward to another night without him when the shadow struck. It was hard to see at first; no one was looking up when it was flying around. Then it lifted her new second-in-command and let him fall back against the deck. The men screamed in terror as the thing ripped into them; she watched in horror as their souls were torn right out of them and discarded like scraps. Then it turned to her.

    She barely got her sword out before it rushed at her. It didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense in hindsight, you can’t fight a shadow, but instincts had kicked in before she could think. It came at her with an unholy screech and she struck.

    She wasn’t sure what the thing was made of, but she hit something. It wheeled back from the strike and then took off as suddenly as it had appeared. It was then Milah knew that things weren’t just off about Neverland. They were far worse than even Killian had known.

 

    0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

 

    The first morning near the habitable island, they lost two men to mermaids when they tried to row to shore. The abominations capsized the rowboat; by the time the mermaids were done there was nothing left behind. Milah had to threaten to send the whole crew ashore before she convinced a few to row her to shore. For some reason, they didn’t meet any trouble.

    She walked along the beach as she waited; she had a campfire built to signal to the boy that lived here. Perhaps he would help. Coming here was a mistake; the men were a scared and superstitious lot, talking about how it was bad luck letting a woman on board and somehow they’d lived on borrowed time until Killian died. They were talking about getting rid of her. She had to find a way back before they did so. Mermaids didn’t just rip men apart.

    That was when he came. He was taller than her; he had dirty blonde hair and a fresh scar on his face. He carried a club on his shoulder and a sword on his hip. It didn’t take long before she realized he had a penchant for drawing out some of his words; that would certainly get old quickly.

    “Who are you?” She asked.

    “Who are _you_?” He asked, “You’re trespassers in this world, you don’t belong here.”

    “Are you the boy?” She asked. Could this be who Killian had talked about? He never really gave a physical description, “Are you Pan?”

    The boy smirked, “At your service.”

    She narrowed her eyes, who would be that happy to be someone called Pan? It was a kitchen object.

    He held out his arms, “Welcome to Neverland.”

    He was too eager. Killian told her when they met, he was very eager. Could this be him or was it a ruse? It had to be him, right? Pan had said he was the only one here.

    “How do we leave?” 

    “You don’t until I give you permission.”

    “Then give us permission.”

    “Is that your ship?”

    She didn’t look back, “Yes.”

    “Would you surrender it if I asked you to?”

    “No.” It was his. It was the most important thing she had of his. It had been their home...it still was HER home. No one would take it from her.

    “Well if we’re not welcome, then maybe it’s best we leave,” she continued

    The boy watched her for a moment, before his gaze flicked towards the men in her company, “Well perhaps I’m not prepared to let you go yet.”

    “What do you want with us?”

    “Your ship but you won’t let me have that.”

    “We can’t leave without a ship to leave on.”

    “Then maybe you’ll be useful for something. Bringing in lost boys, taking out anyone I don’t like. Maybe cake runs.”

    “And who says we’ll be doing any of those things for you?” 

    “You will if you’re really as dead set on leaving as you’re saying,” he turned and started to go into the forest, “We’ll talk soon.”

    Soon obviously meant something different to him than it did to her.

    Milah spent the next month searching for any sign of escape in this place. It was a small world, most of the islands with the exception of the main one were near uninhabitable and there was nothing in sight, no portals, nothing.

    They were trapped and her crew hated her.

    Milah was sure that as soon as they found a way out of here, they were either going to kill her or leave her behind.

    She did her best; she gave orders, she scavenged for food in the sea and whenever they dared to sneak on land. Pan didn’t bother them much. The shadow only flew over them once after his initial attack to scare them all.

    She missed Killian more and more as the days passed. It was a heavy weight in her chest that never went away. When the grief was gone, it was replaced with anger, and she resolved every day that she wasn’t going to die on some rock island in Neverland, a place where she wasn’t even supposed to be.

    “Captain?” Smee asked as he came into her quarters.

    “Knock, Smee!” She snapped and shoved a drawing she had done of Killian underneath some papers.

    “Ma’am, two of the lost boys are here.”

    “The what?”

    “Pan’s followers.”

    “Is that what they’re calling each other now?” Milah stood up and went above deck.

    There were in fact two boys up there surrounded by her crew. One was about five years old while the other was closer to eighteen. Both had poorly stitched together brown cloaks, the taller one wore green underneath it. She took it all in, blinked and looked back at them, “What can I do for you?”

    “We’ve escaped; we’ve come to you for help.”

    “I cannot help you,” she told them without expression, “I don’t know a way out of here, if there was, then we’d be long long gone.”

    “But we have nowhere else to go! If we go back, Pan will kill us,” the younger pleaded. 

    “If you stay here, Pan will kill all of us,” she said dismissively, “Put them back overboard.”

    “Wait! Wait,” the older boy said, “Just let us sleep here tonight. Please let us sleep here tonight.”

    Milah sighed, “Why on earth would I do that?”

    “Because you can’t possibly send us back, not tonight, they’ll be looking for us on the beach.”

    Milah felt herself grow tense. If they didn’t find them on the beach, Pan might send his little demon to look for them here. Then what was he going to do when they were found onboard?

    Why were they here? They had to know these adults couldn’t protect them. They were the least prepared of all of them in this place, so why were the boys wanting their aid?

    Then it struck her; were they here to check out the ship? Were they spies of Pan?

    She didn’t want them here; she didn’t want any spies of Pan on this ship. But she couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this… A chance to trade for passage home.

    “Tie them up and put them in the brig,” she decided.

    “You can’t!” the younger one cried after a moment.

    “I’m the captain,” she said simply, “I give the orders so yes, I can.”

    She was far too tired to think much of what she was going to do. If Pan came looking for them, she would present them in the brig and tell him they came to her and she was holding onto them until he came.

    She went to lie down and take a nap. When she awoke, the older boy was in her room.

    Milah threw the covers back and reached for the hook she kept under the pillow while she slept. She felt the cool steel in her hand as she pulled it out, “What are you doing in here?”

    “You chained me up… That wasn’t very nice,” he pouted.

    Milah stood up, taking him in. He no longer had the demeanor of a scared boy, but of an assured young man. He looked at her like a cat playing with its new toy mouse and Milah had a sinking feeling that the boy she’d been wary of all this time wasn’t the leader. He didn’t have the same assured look. Arrogant he might be, but that boy wasn’t him.

    She was staring at the real one right now.

    “Pan,” she said.

    “Oh good, you figured it out.”

    “Thought you were taller.”

    “I wish I was taller actually,” he admitted, “But…sacrifices had to be made.”

    She slid the hook into its holder on the end of her arm, “So I guess you’re to blame for keeping us here.”

    “Indeed.”

    She was ready to kill him if it came to it. He was holding them here; he might control the demon for all she knew. The old her might have balked at the thought of hurting a child, even one that was nearly an adult, but not anymore.

    “What’s that?” He nodded towards her wrist.

    She shrugged, picking at a spot near the tip, “I’m going to kill you if you don’t let us go.”

    He scoffed, looking offended, “That’s not going to kill me.”

    “We’ll see, won’t we?”

    “You came to my world.”

    “And we’ll be more than happy to leave it,” she snapped. She’d find some other way to kill Rumple, one that didn’t involve being trapped here.

    “Why are you here in the first place?” he asked, “Why does a ship full of pirates come to a paradise for children?”

    She remained silent, knowing any information could easily be used against her and her men. He stepped closer to her; she held her hook out to keep him from getting too close.

“Well you could keep your reason to yourself… And I could just let my shadow murder all of you because he’s not fond of grown-ups.”

Milah blanched; she couldn’t lose her crew. They may hate her but they were still like family to her and she loved them dearly, “To wait.”

    “For what?”

    “A way to kill my husband.”

    “This isn’t a drop-anchor sort of place.”

    “This is the only place I can do what needs to be done; no one ages here and he’s immortal. I need to find a way to end his wretched life.”

    Pan tilted his head, “What is your husband’s name?”

    She drew in a breath, “Rumplestiltskin.”

    The name seemed to be something Pan recognized. Milah watched as he straightened until he nearly stumbled back, “You’re the Dark One’s wife.”

    “Not while he was the Dark One, anyway.”

    Pan narrowed his eyes and studied her. She shifted under his gaze, the seconds passed into eternity, “You’re not leaving the island, Captain. At least not without my permission.”

    She felt her stomach clench, “Why?”

    “Because you came here; you placed yourself under my care. And until I say differently, you work for me,” he interrupted himself with a laugh, “This is a miracle really; we could make good use of your ship.” 

    “You are not going to be using my ship for anything.”

    “Of course not; I don’t know how to navigate. But you will be playing by my rules, since you decided to join my game without asking. Rude,” he turned and moved to walk away, “Have a good evening captain. Feel free to come by my thinking tree if you have something of value, and the natives won’t bother you or your men anymore… Well, unless I ask them to.”

    Milah stared as her captive walked off, assessing her situation. Not only had she been making a fool of herself by talking to the wrong boy for weeks, she had been so preoccupied with using the boys she had hardly thought to wonder who they were or why they were running.   

    Smee stumbled in a few moments afterwards, tripping over his own words as he informed her of the boys’ escape.

    “Yes Smee,” she said, her voice tired as she realized just how deep into the sandpit she had gone in coming to Neverland, “I know.”

   

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was something that me and my co-writer tried out for fun. It is in no way an attempt to disparage certain characters that we’ve shown affection for in plenty of our other works. We ask very nicely that you don’t fill the reviews with character bashing of any kind.


End file.
